-=+Fiction4+=-
"It was time to get some answers, and I had an idea where a few might be roosting. It was time to visit 8th Street, and Madame Venga's.
"Only I hadn't gotten more than a few feet from the office door before the girl in the uncomfortable heels grabbed me by the arm. My right arm. My gun arm.
"I spun around like I was doing a veronica and ducked my shoulder down to break her grip. I twisted my left hand and managed to drag the piece out of its shoulder holster and put it into a close approximation of the ready position, but then I stopped.
"She was looking at me with eyes the size of truck-stop pancakes, sheet-white and motionless as a garden gnome at rest. Then she broke and ran, kicking off the heels as she went and screaming like mad.
"Poor kid, probably wanted a light or something. Well, it was a lesson for her, to never grab someone like that. Why, she could've been killed! I switched hands with the piece and put it away, then rubbed my left wrist. That twist had pinched something, I thought, and as I walked away, for good this time, the building behind me belched smoke and flames as the fire finally found the cabinets of old film reels that the last tenant had left there when he was evicted.
"Guess I didn't have to worry about paying my back rent.
"When I got to Madame Venga's, it was nearly one o'clock in the morning, but the lights were all on, and Bobby was standing out front, looking like a Mack truck someone had carelessly parked on the sidewalk. He was near on to eight feet tall, and the black trenchcoat he wore turned him into a solid squarish shape, with a head bobbing atop that looked small until you got close and realized it was probably bigger than your torso.
"He waved me in without even a courtesy frisk. That was a bad sign. It meant Venga had told him to expect me, and didn't think I was a threat. Which meant ...
"Sure enough, the Smiling Man was sitting in a corner of the 'foyer', grinning away at a newspaper that looked upside down until I realized it was in Chinese. Without looking up he pulled a small bright bead out of a pocket and flicked it with two fingers. It bounced off a bell hanging over the 'parlor' door that was at least twenty feet away, and made a bright cheerful noise that was out of place in the seedy-looking room.
"The door opened immediately and out came Grandma. Madame Venga was wearing a flower-print dress, a off-shite sweater, and a lime green shawl, and looked about 70. I didn't trust it for a second. Her birth records (Claudia Louise Carroll - I had looked them up once out of curiousity) said she was more like 40, but she wanted people to think she was old and feeble. Today, however, her face didn't have the usual friendly Grandma look. She was wearing her Venga face, the one she wore when she was doing readings. The somber, intelligent, and a little crazy face.
"She took a long look at me and then just turned and walked back through the door, leaving it open behind her. I glanced over at the Smiling Man, but to all appearances he was absorbed in his paper. I wouldn't have been surprised if he couldn't read Chinese, and was just holding it there to look like he could. It would be typical of the man, as much as anything was.
"Finally I sighed and walked into the darkish room behind her. I had come here for answers after all, and just maybe I'd get some. And if she wasn't going to give them to me willingly, maybe I'd see if there was another option..."
Lucael
"Only I hadn't gotten more than a few feet from the office door before the girl in the uncomfortable heels grabbed me by the arm. My right arm. My gun arm.
"I spun around like I was doing a veronica and ducked my shoulder down to break her grip. I twisted my left hand and managed to drag the piece out of its shoulder holster and put it into a close approximation of the ready position, but then I stopped.
"She was looking at me with eyes the size of truck-stop pancakes, sheet-white and motionless as a garden gnome at rest. Then she broke and ran, kicking off the heels as she went and screaming like mad.
"Poor kid, probably wanted a light or something. Well, it was a lesson for her, to never grab someone like that. Why, she could've been killed! I switched hands with the piece and put it away, then rubbed my left wrist. That twist had pinched something, I thought, and as I walked away, for good this time, the building behind me belched smoke and flames as the fire finally found the cabinets of old film reels that the last tenant had left there when he was evicted.
"Guess I didn't have to worry about paying my back rent.
"When I got to Madame Venga's, it was nearly one o'clock in the morning, but the lights were all on, and Bobby was standing out front, looking like a Mack truck someone had carelessly parked on the sidewalk. He was near on to eight feet tall, and the black trenchcoat he wore turned him into a solid squarish shape, with a head bobbing atop that looked small until you got close and realized it was probably bigger than your torso.
"He waved me in without even a courtesy frisk. That was a bad sign. It meant Venga had told him to expect me, and didn't think I was a threat. Which meant ...
"Sure enough, the Smiling Man was sitting in a corner of the 'foyer', grinning away at a newspaper that looked upside down until I realized it was in Chinese. Without looking up he pulled a small bright bead out of a pocket and flicked it with two fingers. It bounced off a bell hanging over the 'parlor' door that was at least twenty feet away, and made a bright cheerful noise that was out of place in the seedy-looking room.
"The door opened immediately and out came Grandma. Madame Venga was wearing a flower-print dress, a off-shite sweater, and a lime green shawl, and looked about 70. I didn't trust it for a second. Her birth records (Claudia Louise Carroll - I had looked them up once out of curiousity) said she was more like 40, but she wanted people to think she was old and feeble. Today, however, her face didn't have the usual friendly Grandma look. She was wearing her Venga face, the one she wore when she was doing readings. The somber, intelligent, and a little crazy face.
"She took a long look at me and then just turned and walked back through the door, leaving it open behind her. I glanced over at the Smiling Man, but to all appearances he was absorbed in his paper. I wouldn't have been surprised if he couldn't read Chinese, and was just holding it there to look like he could. It would be typical of the man, as much as anything was.
"Finally I sighed and walked into the darkish room behind her. I had come here for answers after all, and just maybe I'd get some. And if she wasn't going to give them to me willingly, maybe I'd see if there was another option..."
Lucael